


Too Much

by kathkin



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 19:01:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6389353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathkin/pseuds/kathkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The Doctor liked his travelling companions, all three of them. It was just so easy to have too much of a good thing. It was just that some days he could swear there were more than three humans aboard the TARDIS.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Much

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this](http://penny-anna.tumblr.com/post/141654313268/prompt-set-735) prompt set, for [thescarletpaperback](thescarletpaperback.tumblr.com).

_Sometimes_ , the Doctor thought to himself, _you are too much_.

It wasn’t that he didn’t _like_ his travelling companions. He liked all three of them very much. Truth be told, there _were_ days when he bitterly wished Ben and Polly hadn’t gone and blundered into his TARDIS at the worst moment – or that he’d had the stomach to leave Jamie to his fate – but he never meant it. He never truly regretted bringing them aboard. Not any of them.

It was just that, some days, he could _swear_ there were more than three humans aboard the TARDIS. They were everywhere, constantly underfoot and constantly making noise – in his control room –

_“What’s that one do, then?” Ben prodded a lever._

_“That’s the, ah, horizontal dimensional manipulator –”_

_“What about this wee one?” Jamie pointed at a small button._

_“Ah well, that’s the –”_

_“Can I push it?”_

_Marching around the console, the Doctor smacked Jamie’s hand away. “No, you jolly well can **not**!”_

– in his kitchen –

_“I can open a jar perfectly well by **myself** , Jamie Mccrimmon!”_

_“Aye, I’m just sayin’ it’d go a mite faster if you’d let me –” Jamie grabbed for the jar. Polly dodged._

_“I don’t need your help! Look, I’ll put it under the tap.”_

_“Aye, but if you’d just –” Jamie made another grab._

_The jar slithered from damp, slippery hands, shattering on the floor. Jam spurted everywhere. Hands balled into fists, Polly cried, “ **now** look what you made me do!”_

_Turning about-face, the Doctor decided to find somewhere else to drink his tea._

– in his library –

_“I’ve had it up to **here** with your – your toffee-nosed attitude –”_

_“ **Toffee** -nosed?” Polly gaped at him._

_“You’re so bloody supercilious sometimes –”_

_“Eh?” said Jamie._

_“I am **not** supercilious!”_

_“What’s supercilious?”_

_“Oh, shut up, Jamie –”_

_The Doctor buried his face in his book with a groan, wondering quite how they’d started such a fierce argument over how to use a card-catalogue._

– in his swimming pool, shrieking and laughing like children. In his wardrobe, trying on silly hats and tossing about clothes and generally making a mess. Chasing up and down his corridors. Leaving wet footprints and damp towels all over his bathroom. Fiddling with his sensitive equipment. De-alphabetising his books. Setting his food machine to produce only chocolate cake. Using his time scanner to watch football matches. _Putting their grubby fingers all over his music-crystals._

He liked them, all three of them. But it was so easy to have too much of a good thing.

So here he was, tucked away out of sight and out of earshot in his second-best study, seated on a very comfortable sofa with a good long book, a mug of tea, and enough chocolate biscuits to last him all afternoon. 

He had just managed to settle down and relax when he heard the ominous _creeeak_ of the door opening. “Oh, this is where you’ve been hiding?”

The Doctor looked up, and sighed. “Ah. Jamie.”

“I’d been wondering where you’d got to.” Jamie stepped into the room, swinging his arms casually as if he wasn’t intruding. “What’s all this, then?” Inspecting the shelves, he poked at a Betelgeusian crystal clock.

“That’s, ah, fragile,” said the Doctor – concerned, but not quite alarmed enough to leave his cosy seat. “Oh, look, Jamie –”

“Hm?” Jamie duly looked at him.

“I _was_ going to get some private reading done.” The Doctor hefted his book. “Very serious stuff, you know. Very scientific. I was hoping to, hm, be left alone?”

“Oh aye, so was I,” said Jamie, nodding happily. “Ben and Polly are watching that game of theirs again. With the men in the wee shorts. Bores me stiff.”

“I, ah, quite agree,” said the Doctor. “But, really, Jamie –”

“You dinnae mind if I sit here, do you?” Jamie plopped himself down on the sofa. “I’ll be nae bother.”

“Ah, actually –”

Jamie shuffled down the sofa, leaning on him like an affectionate cat. “I was looking for a quiet place to take a wee nap. You dinnae mind, do you? I’ll be quiet as a mouse.”

“Well, I –” Jamie’s eyes fluttered closed. The Doctor looked down at his peaceful face, quite bewildered. “No,” he said at last. “You, ah, make yourself comfortable.”

“Mm, will do.” Jamie snuggled down into his lap.

“Chocolate biscuit?” said the Doctor.

“In a bit,” Jamie said – and he was out like a light.

The Doctor blinked down at him. He ran a hand fondly over Jamie’s tousled hair. _Well_ , he thought to himself as he went back to his book, _perhaps I haven’t had too much, after all_.


End file.
